Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
taylor
It was good to see him laugh.
Harrison had been wearing a sullen expression ever since Emma had appeared in the park. Now, as we walked into Calloway’s, where the grill was still flaming and the taps were put to hard work, I looked at his shaking shoulders and listened to his rumbling laughter, and it felt right.
We sat down in the middle of the joint, ordered our food and milkshakes, and ran into a moment of silence that neither of us knew how to fill. Then I had a terrible idea.
“Was today the first time you saw her since splitting?” I asked.
Harrison’s face tightened, and he nodded. He looked at the menu again.
“Sorry.”
He looked up. For a moment, I wanted to apologize again, more clearly, but then he spoke. “Don’t be. You have a right to ask.”
“I didn’t mean to bring down the mood,” I said.
“It’s not your responsibility to keep it light, Taylor,” he said. “It’s my problem that I can’t…” He cut himself off with a frown and looked away.
“Can’t what? What were you going to say?”
Harrison drew a deep breath, his chest rising, and leaned back in his chair as he exhaled. “The particular words I was going to use were ‘move on,’ but that isn’t right. I’m not trying to move on.”
“I know.” But…wasn’t he? It was so difficult to know.
We were caught in lies within lies. Sometimes, Harrison looked so relieved that we were alone, and he could laugh and be happy and forget all about Emma.
Then, at first mention or reminder, he closed up, tensed, and looked wary of questions that might lead him to any kind of revelation.
And some part of me was tempted to meddle, to take his hand, and lead him out of the mire he was in. He could do so much more than this. He could have more than this.
“Real talk,” I said, leaning in. “Do you think it will work?”
Harrison forced a smile while his eyes focused on me. “I’m out of ideas.”
“It’s not exactly the fervor of a lover who can’t go on living without their other half,” I said.
His facial muscles tensed a little, just enough that I noticed. His gaze remained on my face, but some of the fire went out. “You don’t have to keep doing this if you think it’s pointless.”
I pulled away from him, my back pressing against the wooden backrest and my hands pulling to the edge of the table. “Do you think it’s pointless?”
“I never said that,” Harrison retorted. “But it looks to me like you’re searching for a way out.”
“Don’t put words into my mouth,” I said. Why was he being like this? “I’m holding my end of the bargain, aren’t I?”
“Sure, and you’re reminding me just how useless this whole thing is,” Harrison said, his eyelids fluttering as he looked away from me and focused on the darts on the far end of the room. “So why bother? Why go through the charades for some prank when the one thing I want isn’t going to happen?”
“Do I have to convince you to keep fake-dating me now?” I asked with a slice of incredulity. He was way too touchy about this, and that just wasn’t going to cut it.
“Do I have to convince you? Because I won’t. All we’re doing is going places together, hoping something happens.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What do you think we’re gonna achieve on Friday? Your friends are going to think we’re more than friends. Big joke.”
“Hey, I’m helping you,” I said. “You’re the one who wants to get the girl, and you think dating me is going to bring her back.”
He fell silent, pressing his lips together hard and looking down at the table between us. After another few seconds of sulking silence, he crossed his arms. The waiter brought our plates, but I wasn’t hungry anymore. “Can I have this to go?”
“Sure,” the guy said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Screw this,” I said, pushing the chair back. I followed the waiter, glancing only once over my shoulder at Harrison, still looking at the floor somewhere to his right, lips pursed and arms crossed.
I waited for my burger to be packed, then walked out without another glance.
To think I’d spent the whole day with him and this was how he thanked me…
Infuriating, insufferable, insecure lump.
He knew this wasn’t going to work. So did I.
So what? We could have had fun for three weeks, and he could have gotten a nice friendship as a consolation, while I got to hang out with someone I liked.
Oh, but no, he just had to keep his rosy glasses on and think that somehow, magically, Emma would wake up from her little episode and come running.
And she might. What the hell did I know?
But if he wanted even a slim chance at it, he had to face the reality, or he would just keep hitting the wall with his head first and hoping it would turn into a curtain.
I stormed back to campus and the Bel House, threw my cold and soggy burger into the microwave, and rummaged through the fridge for a can of cold beer. There were always a few somewhere in the back. Ah, there, good. I took it, cracked the can open, and pulled a long sip before shutting the fridge.
“Fuck!” I jumped back.
Jason stood on the other side of the fridge door like an apparition. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” I grumbled, drinking some more until the microwave dinged that the food was ready.
I took it out and set the hot plate on the kitchen island, then sat on one of the high chairs along the island.
The burger looked like a steaming pile of crap, all broken apart and melting. “This looks awful.”
“Want a grilled sandwich?” Jason asked.
“Nah.” I picked up the burger and bit into it, sauce and juices dripping on the plate. One bite was enough to remind me that I was completely out of appetite.
Jason went to the fridge and took out another can of beer, then sat a couple of spots away from me and rested his elbow on the island while sipping from the can. “Bad day?”
I thought about it. “No. It was a good day, actually. A really good day.”
“Well, you look like a ray of sunshine. Don’t know why I thought that.” But he kept his gaze on me with concern wrinkling his face. “Seriously, you know you can talk to me. Right?”
Great, I thought. Now he decided to check in and see if I was ready to “come out.” I sucked my teeth and pushed the place aside. “Harrison annoyed me by being an ass.”
“Yeah, I figured out that much.” He looked at his can like it contained all the fun trivia in the world, then lifted his gaze to me. “Wanna talk about it?”
I shook my head once decisively.
Jason raised a hand, assuring me the topic was, in that case, behind us. “But if you ever do, you know where I live.” He drained the can, crushed it, and tossed it into the trash can, fist-pumping when it fell in on his first try.
I wanted to be annoyed with Jason, too, but it was difficult. It was just their natures, these golden retrievers. Jason went upstairs, but Peanut came down instead, wagging his tail and looking at me with those clever eyes of his.
“Not you, too,” I sighed. I didn’t need comforting.
The guy wasn’t even a friend, just someone I had met a few times.
There was no loss here. There was no change to my life in any way at all.
There wasn’t even a ripple in his absence.
I was back to where I had been a week ago, and nothing in the great, wide universe was different.
Peanut came closer, then nudged my leg with his nose, looked up, and waited for something. “I don’t know what you want, buddy. Ask Jason.”
Peanut whimpered.
I got off the chair and down to one knee. Before I could even reach his ear for a good scratch, Peanut pushed his head at me, tucking it into my hoodie under my arm and wagging his tail harder.
I knelt there, scratching and rubbing and petting him until he sat down and licked me all the way up the left side of my face. He then stuck his tongue out and grinned at me like a very good boy that he was.
“Thanks for that, Peanut,” I said, wiping my face with my sleeve. “Good lick, that.”
I threw away the leftovers, tossed the beer can into the trash, missed, bent down, picked it up, and put it where it belonged, then walked up to my room while Peanut rewarded himself with a chewing toy in the corner.
Just as I reached my door, a doorbell went off, sending Peanut into a frenzy and causing a string of “Dammit, doorbell” grunts to come from every room in the house.
Only one person came to mind who didn’t know the open-door rules of this house, and it was my job to work up the politeness to open the door.
Besides, I needed to take Peanut out for a run now.
Thanks for that, I thought to myself and went back downstairs, patting Peanut’s side before opening the door.
Peanut dashed through the door like a bullet, nearly turning Harrison over.
“Did I do that?” he asked, voice low and husky.
“We have a no-doorbell rule,” I said. “If you’re cool, you just walk in.”
Guilt twisted his face. “Am I cool?”
A small laugh escaped me.
He didn’t wait for a reply. “I’m sorry, Taylor. I was an ass, and I overreacted. I really appreciate your help.”
I waited. Then waited some more. “And?”
Harrison looked into my eyes, and it was difficult not to feel seen by him. Like really seen. Like beneath all the layers and walls and protections. He smiled. “And I really enjoy your company, Taylor. So, I’d like to come on Friday as we planned. If you’ll have me.”
I inhaled deeply and couldn’t help but smile. “That’s some romantic gesture.”
“If only I had the balls to do the same to Emma,” he mumbled.
I laughed out loud, hoping he was joking. Showing up at her door after two months when she was already dating someone else was not the same as making up with a potential friend an hour after a bit of sparring. “I’d love it if you came on Friday.”
Peanut zipped from left to right with a squeaky toy in his mouth, biting it and making it cry. Harrison turned around to look at him, and I stepped out, closing the door behind me. “I don’t think it’s hopeless,” I said softly.
“I know.”
We looked at each other, and the moment lingered, held.
He was good. We were good. It shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did, but long after Harrison had gone home and Peanut had gotten tired of running, I found myself lying in my bed, smiling.